Avery Russell stepped into the chaos of the White House, his eyes taking in the Bow Street Runners and the local magistrate, a man named John Dearborn, as they took statements from several brothel patrons. Three men were restrained by iron shackles and seated at a card table in the main gaming room."Russell." One of the Runners, a man called Sam Cady, nodded and spoke to Avery as he came over. "We've put a stop to the auction. Unfortunately, the madam threw her account books into the fire, destroying the names of the men who paid to attend. All of the ladies have been placed in an adjoining room, but""But what?"Cady shrugged his large shoulders and nodded toward the restrained group of men. "One of the gentlemen here swears another man bought a slave, the first one to be sold. He and the girl aren't here.""Someone got away?" Avery's hands curled into fists as he thought of some poor woman being carried away to a place where no one would find her, where she would be abused and d
Lawrence woke to the chiming of the grandfather clock in the corridor outside his bedroom.Half past seven. It was still early, and they had gone to bed in the wee hours of the morning. He shifted, feeling the welcome weight of Zehra in his arms. Her head rested on his chest, and their legs were entwined. Her chemise had ridden up, and he had one hand on her left thigh. She had one hand in his hair, as though she'd fallen asleep stroking her fingers through the strands. A smile twisted his lips. She liked his hairjust as he liked hers. He wondered if she was genuinely at ease with him, or if it was something she'd done unconsciously during her sleep. Either way, he liked that she was touching him. He wanted her to feel safe with him, to feel she could be around him, even touch him without fear. I want to be a man she can trust. He carefully moved his hand from her thigh and reached up to stroke his palm over the dark coiling locks that tumbled down her back. She didn't stir as
Jane Russell was a stunning woman of fifty-two years with dark-red hair and hazel eyes. Lawrence wasn't fooled by his mother's beauty, however. He knew she was one of the fiercest matriarchs in all the ton when it came to schemes, especially those of a matchmaking nature. She also had the uncanny ability to appear in the lives of her children when they least expected. Like right now."Does everyone just walk into my house without knocking? Where the bloody hell is MacTavish, and why isn't he doing his bloody job?" Lawrence flexed his throbbing hand, and Avery rubbed his sore eye, each shooting glares at the other."A good butler knows better than to stop a man's mother at the front door." Jane pulled at the tips of her gloves, removing them while she stared at her sons, one reddish brow arched in disapproval. "What are you two quarreling about?"Lawrence and Avery shared a look. Avery gave Lawrence a jerk of the head so slight their mother would miss it. Be silent. He quite agre
Lord George Lyon, the Earl of Denbruck, sat in his comfortable leather armchair in the drawing room, watching his son and daughter with their spouses and children play snapdragon. His eyes drank in the sight of his happy family. At the age of seventy-two, he was getting on in years, but staying young was easy when he spent time around his grandchildren."Father?" His son, Archibald, came over, holding out a letter. "This came for you. The footman left it on the table, but I believe you missed it.""Thank you, Archie." George took the letter, studying the seal upon the parchment, and his heart jolted. It was a seal he had not seen in almost two months, yet he'd longed to see it every day. He struggled to open the letter hastily but without damaging it. As he began to read, the world around him seemed to fade into a gray recess.Lord Denbruck,It is with a heavy heart that I must share the fate of your daughter, Joan, and her husband, Rafay. They were killed in a raid by a rival po
Bloody balls.Lawrence despised wearing the obligatory knee breeches required for balls and dancing. He much preferred the cut of a good pair of trousers. He was no foppish dandy, but he did like to look like a gentleman, even if his behavior suggested he wasn't. "She knows I don't want to be here," Lawrence muttered to his brother, Lucien, who was leaning against the back wall next to him. Side by side they could have been mistaken for twins if one didn't know they were four years apart in age.Lucien chuckled. "None of us want to be here. But you know how Mother is. The woman knows precisely what to say to get us to do as she wishes.""What did she say to make you come?" Lawrence asked. Even at three and thirty, Lucien still bowed to their mother's dictates, just as they all did."She reminded me that Horatia won't have the chance to dance during the late summer or fall because of her pregnancy. I have no intention of cloistering my wife away, but Mother's right that she won't
Zehra turned the last page of the novel she'd found in Lawrence's bedchamber earlier that day. It had been so wonderful to find an engaging read. She had read some English novels before, but never these "Gothic" ones, as Lawrence had called them, for they were rare in Shiraz, the area where she was from. The adventures of Lady Isabelle had distracted her from her loneliness for a time, but when she heard the click of the door opening her heart leapt."Zehra?" Lawrence's voice was soft, as though he feared she might be asleep."I'm here." She set the book down and stood, surprised by her eagerness to see him again. It was hard to explain, but it was as though every time she saw him, he brought sunlight into the room, even when it was night.He smiled as he spotted her. "Ah, you're awake. I thought perhaps you might have gone to sleep. It's almost midnight."She shook her head. "I am tired. But I couldn't rest." Her evening after dinner had been plagued with worries. She needed to fi
Zehra couldn't help but laugh as Lawrence did his best to lay a blanket down on the soft cool grass. A light breeze kept flipping the fabric into uneven layers rather than behaving and lying flat on the ground."Here, let me." She grasped the other side of the blanket, and together they were able to get it down."Ah! There we are." Lawrence helped Zehra down beside him. Once seated, he opened the wicker basket he'd had his kitchen prepare. She took the opportunity to watch him as he pulled the food out of the basket and placed it on the blanket. He was kneeling next to her, and she admired his strong thighs, outlined by the tightness of his trousers in his current position.Zehra was fascinated by the way his dark hair caught the sunlight on the hill. Golden amber glinted and sparkled in the strands. She'd never seen a man with such hair color. Now that the shock of what she'd been through had finally begun to fade, she was starting to pay more attention to the unusual aspects of hi
Lawrence looked up in surprise as he heard Zehra climb out of the bath behind the screen. She hadn't been in there very long and he worried the water had cooled too fast."Was it hot enough?" he asked."Oh yes. I didn't need to stay in very long." Zehra came around the changing screen into view, a blanket wrapped tight around her body. She came toward him on dainty bare feet, clutching the edges of the blanket around her shoulders. He caught a glimpse of her bare skin as she moved, and his body turned taut with arousal.She deserves a gentleman, not a rogue. He forced himself to stay where he was. The old Lawrence would have been on his feet in an instant, sliding that blanket off her, determined to get her on her back on the nearest comfortable surface. But he wanted to be a better man for this woman. When he took Zehra to bed, he wished for it to mean something for both of them. It would be about more than simple pleasure, even if it was doomed not to last. He swallowed hard, his
The roads proved to be quite passable as sunlight melted much of the last evening's snowfall. Ella leaned against the side of the coach, watching sunlight glint off the snow like diamonds scattered on the surface of a white sheet. The rocking rhythm of the coach and the thudding sounds of the hooves lulled her into a numb state somewhere between wakefulness and slumber. She tried not to let her mind drift back to this morning, but it seemed determined to replay flashes of their lovemaking.The way Phillip's eyes lit up between slow kisses, how it felt to thread her fingers through his hair, the sighs he made as they embraced after coming apart. The way it felt to have his fingertips brush against her cheek. Even the way he spoke her name as she walked away. She would remember every little thing, the bursts of light and heat, and the cold sting of her breaking heart. Perhaps in time the memories would fade, but she doubted it. If only he was brave enough to come after her, to fight for
Ella awoke to the smell of porridge, eggs, and ham. She moved languidly, stretching her limbs, feeling sore between her thighs and a slight dampness in the sheets. Her face flushed as she sat up in bed. Phillip was seated by the fire, reading a novel. A tray of food sat on the table beside him, untouched."You should eat."He looked over his shoulder at her, his mouth quirking into a grin. "I was waiting for you. Come." He patted his lap, and the invitation was too much for her to resist. She slipped out of bed and joined him. He curled an arm around her waist as she eased down on his lap."How do you feel?" he asked, his eyes tender as he looked at her."A little sore," she admitted. "But wonderful too. I fear you've given me a taste for sin.""Have I now?" His delighted chuckle pleased her so much that her heart hurt. She loved his laugh, his smile, everything. She wanted only happiness for him because he had suffered so much."Yes, most definitely. Where did you learn such a u
Phillip woke before dawn, feeling more rested than he had in a long time. A beautiful woman lay beside him, and memories of how sweet the previous night had been made him want to burst into song like a lovestruck fool. He'd given her pleasure and she'd returned it, and it had been going so damned well until he'd fallen asleep. Yet his body didn't ache, and his leg didn't hurt as he was used to first thing in the morning. He moved slightly, expecting pain, but the usual stiffness in his thigh and lower calf and shin weren't there.He stared down at Ella's scantily clad body lying beside him. Had she truly rubbed his body last night, or had it been a sweet dream? He'd gotten so used to that, dreaming she was there to heal everything with her love and sweetness, that he didn't quite trust the reality.No, it hadn't been a dream. She had pleasured him with her mouth and almost brought him to his knees. Then she'd shown tenderness in helping him with his leg. God, the woman was exquisite
The night was full of magic. Ella couldn't stop smiling as she left the dancers and returned to the table with Bridget.Warwick poured them wine from a bottle a barmaid delivered to them. "Well done, ladies, well done."The wine was sweet on Ella's tongue and went straight to her head as she ate dinner. Phillip kept a hand on her waist, so deliciously scandalous, even though they were pretending to be married. She could have floated away without a care in the world."Well, it's getting late. I think we'll turn in," Phillip said at last. "It was a pleasure to meet you both."Bridget smiled. "As it was for us, my lord."Phillip collected his cane, and Ella slipped her arm in his as they headed for the stairs."You were stunning tonight," Phillip said as they climbed the steps together."Was I?" She couldn't resist preening a little. She rarely received compliments from men who weren't her brothers."You were most enchanting." Phillip leaned against the wall as he unlocked their d
Phillip was damned, but he couldn't stop what he was doing. She was so tender, so full of warmth and youthful excitement. Her kiss made him feel like the man he'd once been long ago. Like the man who'd danced with her in that ballroom ages ago, feeling her spin and twirl back into his arms. How she'd looked up at him when he'd kissed her beneath that starry night sky, and he'd thought in that moment they could have held the entire world between them.Now he was kissing her again, and it was different. She was not a young, teasing debutante. She was a woman now, one who'd learned disappointments and heartache and clung to happiness that much stronger whenever she found it. He wanted to make sure their time together now was everything she'd dreamed of.Her eager response to the touch of his lips or the flick of his tongue against hers brought back a flood of excitement. He'd thought he was incapable of feeling like this again, but he'd been blissfully wrong. A sweet melody echoed about
The following morning, Ella stepped out into the courtyard between the two gatehouses and blinked in surprise to find Phillip dressed and ready to leave. She'd thought perhaps after last night he wouldn't come. Yet there he was, eyes glinting with amusement at her astonishment.He looked dashing in buff trousers and an indigo waistcoat. A greatcoat hung around his shoulders, only adding to the handsome picture he presented. Beyond him a large traveling coach stood ready. Marcus and Cora were helping the driver secure several valises to the back of the coach. The morning sky was still a watery gray as the sun failed to penetrate the heavy snow clouds that had gathered above them.Phillip greeted her with a smile as she reached him. "Good morning."She smiled back, but a sudden bout of nerves made her tremble. Had she really asked him to tutor her in seduction last night? The reality of that moment was now a little daunting in the cold light of day."Come now, don't be shy," Phillip
Ella followed Mr. Boucher through the house as he escorted her to her chambers for the night. Most of the furniture was covered in cloth to protect from sunlight and dust. Many of the tall paned windows throughout the house were shuttered, effectively sealing off the rooms from light and life. This beautiful house had been emptied of people. Closed off, just like its master.They passed into one of the few more well-lit rooms, a long hall with paintings of fine-faced men and women. She glanced up at more than one of the portraits, seeing Phillip's eyes or chin, even his nose in several of the ancestors upon the walls."Mr. Boucher.""Yes, Lady Ella?""Is he in much pain?" She was perhaps indelicate to inquire about Phillip's injuries in such a way, but she needed answers.Boucher paused to look at her in the moonlight. Whatever he seemed to be looking for he must have found."Yes. In the beginning, he couldn't walk. He lay in bed for several weeks, only moving with the aid of oth
Phillip sat in the faded armchair in his study, staring into the crackling fire in the fireplace. His left leg ached, especially during the damp winter months. He rubbed his thigh, squeezing the muscles, and then farther down to his shin and calf. The muscles were still weak from the lack of use. But it hurt too much to walk, so he did so only when necessary.A sound from the hall below caught his attention. Voices. Who the devil could Boucher be talking to? They'd reduced the staff over the last year, mainly because he had shut up most of the house since he remained close to his bedchamber and never entertained. He sat up a little in his chair, listening to the sounds of a woman. The pair of maids he still employed were likely on the first floor of the house at the farthest end where the other bedchambers were or in the kitchens."Boucher?" he called out, but his voice was hoarse since he hadn't used it in what felt like days. He hadn't had occasion to see anyone or truly talk to an
One year later"If I have to listen to one more man explain to me that business and politics are not things to concern myself with," Ella growled over the rim of her teacup."It is most frustrating," her friend, Audrey St. Laurent, agreed. "I often say some men need a good whack to the heador between their legs, depending on the man."Ella snickered but then sighed as her mood deflated again."What's truly bothering you?" Audrey inquired.Ella glanced about Audrey's morning room, seeking a distraction from her mortification, but they were alone. A fire crackled in the hearth, and sunlight glinted off the snow outside. It was a perfectly lovely day, which made her black mood all the worse."At one and twenty, it seems I'm now to attract the worst sort of men. I was at Lady Hearst's ball last evening, and every single man I danced with lectured me about how fortunate I was to even be dancing at my age. To make it worse, the younger ladies have taken offense at my being there. More